Surely you know
you can’t talk
to a stone
unless of course
you are the wind
and nothing changes
anything
unless you ask it to
confess its cause,
connect itself
to all you seek
so near the end
where whispers blow
upon the source
of contours slow
and what it is
you’re looking for.
Surely you know
you can’t talk
to a stone,
unless of course,
you are the wind,
then on you’ll wend
like hushes flown
like spirits thrown
like feelings shown
and on you’ll go,
my friend.

A single thought is not enough,
but thoughts together multiply.
I’m sorry that we forget this sometimes.
Love, is deeper than longing.